


Keeping Warm

by PeppyDragon



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12005886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyDragon/pseuds/PeppyDragon
Summary: The Deep Roads can be a cold, inhospitable place.  Hawke has every intention of changing that while sharing body heat with her best friend, Varric Tethras.- Plotless fluff and smut || takes place during the Deep Roads expedition -





	Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I swear!  
>  **Story Notes: Smut**  
>  This story's song inspiration was ["Young Blood," by Noah Kahan.](https://open.spotify.com/track/20OrSCxQNhfAtiWtbLn3hf)  
> Please enjoy!

* * *

 

 

 _Blighted Deep Roads,_ Varric thought with less venom than he wanted to muster. They'd been walking through the dank tunnels and dripping caverns for three days now, and Varric was still unnerved by every scrape of the party's boots against the stone. He was a surface dwarf through and through - being in the thaigs made his chest tight and his heart race. Things were too closed in, too dark.

It didn't help that there were bands of darkspawn at most every turn.

Each night it would take hours for him to succumb to slumber, even though Anders put up wards and hirelings were watching the perimeter at all times. Varric found himself waking up so often through the night that he was sure time had stopped and left him the only one unfrozen. He'd taken to drinking more than usual to lull himself into a stupor when everyone settled in for the evening, the rasping breaths of his companions the only thing soothing about the nights.

Varric sat around one of the four campfires blazing brightly, Fenris beside him and brooding, his gaze on the crackling flames in front of them. Varric had thought about trying to provoke Fenris into a conversation, but he knew why the elf was looking longer in the face than usual. Hawke's delighted giggles were coming from the other side of the campfire, occasionally punctuated by whatever animated story Anders regaled her with tonight. Probably one of his endless Gray Warden tales; possibly one about his damned cat.

Varric wasn't startled at the elf's virulence - or even the ire prickling the back of Varric's neck. Hawke was one of those beautiful, enigmatic women who somehow managed to bewitch him from the moment they spoke. He hadn't found a woman even close to as enchanting as Hawke, not since Bianca. Before Hawke, Varric was never particularly drawn to humans - their long limbs and slender builds made him uneasy. Even so, there was something about the spirited rogue that made him overlook it all.

Perhaps it was her voice or the jaunty way she teased everyone, tone thick with adoration. Maybe it was how her eyes gave her every emotion away, how she looked at him while they spent nights at the Hanged Man, Varric amusing others with tales of her heroism. It could have even been something as simple as how she told him, time and again, that he was the closest thing she'd ever had to a true companion.

 _Aside from Chop,_ she would muse, playfully grinning as she mentioned the mabari.

 _Pushed aside by a filthy hound,_ he always laughed, clinking his mug with hers. _Here's to true companions._

And now he sat on the other side of the fire from the two chortling humans, unable to see them through the column of flame. The blaze couldn't keep their laughter from him, though, and he was growing steadily more agitated with each giggle.

"I need sleep," Fenris said suddenly, tone devoid of emotion. He finished off the wineskin he had been nursing before tossing it to the ground unceremoniously. He left without another word, grabbing his bedroll and taking it away from the fire; more than likely attempting to get far enough away not to hear Hawke's musical purr.

Varric decided it was a decent idea and finished his own skin before heading to where he'd left his pack. He unfurled his pallet and grabbed the thick fur he'd brought with him. He stripped down to his smallclothes before climbing onto the rough leather. Varric had just settled in, pulling the hide up around him, when Hawke's voice drifted to his ear, much closer than before.

"I should have listened when you told me to bring a blanket." Varric glanced up at her and smirked. She was standing there, tunic off and breastband dark against her pale skin. She put all of her weight on her left hip, her bedroll under one arm. She was grinning like an impish child. "Think you could share? I nearly froze to death last night; not to mention sleeping clothed is so annoying."

He felt like saying that Anders would probably like sharing his skin, in more ways than one, but Varric wasn't about to second guess random blessings. "Anything for you, sweetheart." He tossed the hide back a bit, and Hawke unfurled her bedroll beside him, the thick leather pressing against his. She began untying her breeches, her hips wiggling as she slid out of the tight ramskin before she laid down beside him. He covered her with the hide, and she turned to him, snuggling up against his chest. Her breath was hot on his collarbone, her hair tickling his neck and getting caught in the stubble of his jaw.

"You're so warm," she yawned. "Must be all of that dwarven constitution you keep going on about."

"There's a lot more to the dwarven constitution than warmth," he hummed, not sure why he was trying to tease her with innuendo while she pressed against him. It wasn't the smartest way to keep her in his arms.

Or it was, because she giggled softly, a hand rising to the thicket of hair on his chest. She had pet his chest before, usually while drunk on too much piss-ale at the Hanged Man. But this was a lingering touch, her slim fingers coiling through the strands. "I am sure there is, Varric," she murmured finally.

They laid in silence as Hawke's body slowly eased against his, her muscles smoothing out. Varric had assumed she had drifted to sleep and thought about pulling back a bit. His arm was beginning to cramp from where his head pressed into it. He shifted slightly, and Hawke hummed, lifting her head. "Here," she murmured, moving his arm under the roll of her pillow. Hawke angled herself so that the cushion fully supported her head, Varric's arm in the groove between her neck and shoulder. She curled into him again, a hand reaching for his other arm and draping it over the dip of her waist.

Varric pulled her into him further, her body flush with his, and tried very hard not to think about what other things they could do in such a position. Most of Hawke's additional height was in her legs, leaving her pelvis and chest at just the right height to press against his. She must have heard the sudden hitch in his breath, or perhaps she felt his heart speeding up, pounding through his chest and into hers, because she chuckled softly, her lips brushing his cheek. "Get some sleep, dwarf. I'm sure you'll need it for later."

Varric knew she meant for the coming day of killing darkspawn and pawing through chests in an attempt to find something worth selling. Even so, his cock twitched slightly at the implications her words could have carried - had she been interested in him, had she not spent an entire night canoodling with another man, had he not been her truest companion... right after her dog, of course.

 

* * *

 

Varric wasn't sure what woke him, but when his eyes opened, he found his face pressed into the back of Hawke's bare neck, the scent of sweat and campfire sweet against his nose. One arm was still beneath her neck while the other rested on her hip. The cloth of her smallclothes under his palm was rough in comparison to the skin around it. He moved his hand slightly, her smalls shifting to allow him to feel more of the skin and less of the cotton.

She moaned softly, stirring, and he couldn't help but press a soft kiss to her neck. She shifted a little more, pushing herself back into him, and Varric stifled a gasp as her ass pressed into his cock. His fingernails scratched her hip gently as he clenched his fist and she giggled, the sound thick with sleep.

She had stilled under him, and he finally managed to catch his breath. The heat under the fur was getting unbearable - he wasn't sure if it was because of their bodies, the hide, or his desire for her. Perhaps all of those things. He swallowed and pressed his mouth against the knot of her spine at the base of her neck, breathing her in and trying to keep his cock from standing to attention.

It was a losing battle - especially when her hips began circling, slowly pressing herself against him. He knew the move well; the feigned stretch or repositioning was meant for one thing - teasing. Bianca had done it to him on many occasions while attempting to make him forget his annoyance with her, with her recklessness, with her marriage to another man. And now Hawke was in her place, and Varric had nothing but desire and affection for the human.

"Sweetheart, you're going to kill me doing this," he rasped against her neck, lips going to the crook of her neck. His tongue slipped across the smooth expanse, the faint flush of sweat making the skin salty.

"Something wrong, Tethras?" she asked, her hips steadily speeding up as they rocked into him.

"Just worried this is going to be one of those awkward moments of coming on your back while you tease the life out of me," he replied with more flippancy than he felt.

"Do you prematurely come on women's backs often, Varric?" she purred.

"You might find out if you don't stop," he managed to say before stifling a moan into her hair. Her hips were speeding up, and his cock was fully alert and straining against his loincloth painfully. "Hawke-"

She pulled away suddenly, sitting up and glancing around. The camp was still aside from the murmurs coming from the hirelings watching the perimeter. The soft light from the dwindling campfire gave off a hazy red glow, bathing Hawke in it. Her reflective black hair shimmered, turned bloody, and Varric had to catch his breath. She was gorgeous. She was possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

She moved the fur down to Varric's waist before leaning over him, kissing her way up his chest and neck. Her lips hesitated above his, and she smiled softly, pale blue eyes meeting his amber ones through the murk. "Do you think it will be awkward?" she asked softly, her lower lip brushing his as she spoke.

"Maybe. If we stop now it will probably be even worse," Varric added when he felt her pause. "What do you think, Hawke? Time to make a potentially disastrous mistake?"

"Why Varric Tethras, you know exactly how to make a girl weak in the knees," she goaded him before her mouth lowered the final centimeters to his.

Varric groaned into her mouth, hands gripping her sides tightly as his tongue slid across the seam of her lips, pushing past them easily. Her tongue was just like her - light and playful, caressing him with ease. He pulled back only enough to nip her lower lip, drawing a delighted giggle from her mouth.

Varric placed a hand to her lips, smirking. "If you're getting loud already, we might have a problem soon, Hawke."

"Embarrassed to be in bed with me?" One of her hands was winding through his chest hair. She was biting her lower lip at him, eyelids fluttering as she did. Varric wanted nothing more than to toss her down and ravage her, to make her scream, to hear her cries of ecstasy echoing off of the stone cavern around them.

"I'd rather keep my guts where they are," Varric murmured, caressing his hand across Hawke's cheek and down to her neck, thumb pressing gently against her throat. Her breath stammered and her eyelids closed, mouth parting to let out a soft gasp. "Fenris was acting rather possessive tonight while you flirted with Anders."

She leaned down toward him, and he removed his hand from her neck so as not to crush her trachea. "What about you, Tethras? Did you get a little possessive, too? A little jealous?"

"Hardly," he chuckled, grabbing her chin and dragging her to his mouth again. They lips struggled for dominance for so long that Varric had forgotten what they'd been talking about until Hawke pulled back and began unwinding her breastband casually, watching him.

"I wasn't flirting, you know. We were talking about Ferelden. And, by the way, you chose to sit away from us. We were quite hoping your storytelling could keep us warm."

Varric couldn't help the laugh that fell from his lips. It was Hawke's turn to press her fingers to his mouth, delicately giggling as she quieted him. Her fingers weren't stopping him, though, just a gentle weight on his lips, so he murmured, "I might have been a tiny, _insignificant_ amount of envious."

Hawke's grin widened, and she pulled back slightly to continue unwrapping her breastband. Varric watched her as the embers crackled, the last of the fire sputtering and casting shadows and red light across her skin. Her binding unraveled to the ground and she knelt there, watching him, giving him time to admire her before she stood and shimmied out of her smalls.

Varric had always been one to appreciate beauty. There had been very little he enjoyed more than a lovely woman, bare to the world and confident about it. He could write entire books on the way Hawke was looking at him; the way her mouth twitched into a self-satisfied smirk, the way her eyes flashed in desire as she lowered herself back to their pallets. She climbed on top of him, her apex pressing against his engorged shaft as she leaned down to kiss him. Her hips rocked against him, and it wasn't long before Varric felt her dampness soaking through his smalls.

"Hawke," he groaned, one hand gripping a breast while the other squeezed her hip. He felt her grin against his mouth, kissing the corner of his lips before sitting up. Her firm, muscled thighs pressed against his hips as she rose off of him slightly, her hands sliding to his smallclothes. She hooked her fingers around them and gently slid them down until his cock bobbed out, fully erect and yearning for her. Varric kicked the smalls the rest of the way off, his chest hurting with the force of his heartbeat.

Varric had thought about having Hawke in his bed before, of course. It had become a favorite fantasy while he stroked himself at night - and some mornings, and some afternoons after their rousing flirtations. He had thought about the tender conversation they might have, how sweetly she would lower her lips to his, how gently he would caress her with his tongue and hands. He had thought of the savage way it might happen - bloody and raw after a battle, filled with the bloodlust that muddled her brain and made her a demon among men. Teeth gnashing at skin, hard and vicious thrusts into her core that would leave them both shouting.

This hadn't made the cut in his imaginings. Laying in a dark cave, surrounded by friends, hirelings, and Bartrand. There were no sugared words; there was no sense of urgency or frenzied desire. In fact, when Hawke slid herself over him, taking him into her, Varric felt nothing but awe. She leaned over him as she moved, slowly and fluidly, and Varric reached up to cup her breasts in his hands, to knead against the softness of them, to tweak her nipples and relish in the soft pants that slipped from her opened mouth.

Hawke sat up, tossing her head back as she rode him, her thighs squeezing into his hips. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her down onto him a little harder. She hissed softly but complied, speeding up, groaning while trying not to. Her body was beginning to shudder around him, and he held her waist tightly, eyes urging her to release, to let him see her unravel. She glanced down at him, one hand planting itself on his chest as she gasped and shuddered, a long, low moan shaking from her throat.

Varric didn't care that the others could no doubt hear her. She was as quiet as she could be, of course, but they were in a cave. Not to mention it had been close to two years since she'd had someone, according to her drunken bemoaning with Isabela a fortnight prior. After such a dry spell, her ability to be silent would have been a failing on his part.

Varric let her catch her breath as she twitched above him before slowly raising her off of him and laying her down on the fur. He kissed down her throat before licking his way across her nipples, moving between them gradually, tasting each firm peak, running his teeth gently over them and making Hawke arch beneath him. "Varric," she grumbled finally, hips thrusting up against him. "I want you."

"Think you can do a bit better at being quiet, sweetheart?" he breathed against her navel, nipping the scarred skin below it.

She snorted. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I will fall asleep waiting for you, dwarf."

He chuckled before sitting up and flipping her over effortlessly. She let out a little yip of surprise, and he leaned down, lips on the back of her neck. "You've gotta bite that tongue, Hawke. Someone might come investigate if you keep squealing like a nug."

She pressed her face into her pillow, shoulders shuddering with her laughter, and he took her moment of inattention to swat her legs apart, placing himself between them, before dragging her hips up to him. He entered her without any pretense, her passage so tight it almost hurt, and began to move hard and fast. She was gasping for air as her face pressed into her pillow. Even so, Varric was quite aware that her moans were picking up in volume and the sound of her ass slamming into him was too rhythmic to be anything other than what it was - unceremonious rutting.

He couldn't concentrate hard enough to try to quiet her. He found that he didn't even care, in fact. If anything, he wanted to hear those delightful noises get louder, to listen to her as she came undone. He dragged his nails down her back, loving how it bowed beneath him, how her shoulder blades stuck up against her skin as if trying to stop him from pulling away.

His own breathing was growing ragged, matching her moans gasp for gasp. He reached around her hip to slide his finger across her molten clitoris. She arched, her mouth breaking free from the pillow, a tight yelp slipping from her lips. Varric chuckled, unable to help it as he leaned over her to kiss her back, his thrusts slowing to match his finger circling her clit. She bucked back into him, trying to goad him into going faster, but he only slowed, teasing her, loving the exasperated grunt as she muttered, "You're purposely-"

He shoved into her, cutting her words off. She shouted in surprise, her body trembling against his finger as his cock drove into her. She had given up on being subtle, her head thrown back, her cries bouncing off of the stone around them. Varric smirked as her moans became breathier, finally petering out with a soft exclamation as she came again, her body struggling to stay upright. Varric anchored Hawke to him, and he slowed his pace.

When she had finally stopped shaking, he pulled out of her and rolled her onto her back. He kissed her slowly, tasting her. There was a hint of blood in her mouth, startling but somehow pleasing. "I didn't mean for you to bite your tongue literally, sweetheart," he teased.

She grinned, kissing him again, her hands smoothing over the stubble on his jaw and down to his throat. "You talk too much, Tethras."

She loved it - he knew it, and she knew that he knew it. He chuckled into her neck before spreading her legs wider, sliding inside of her. He leaned over her as much as he could, kissing her when she sat up on her elbows to meet his lips. The proportional differences were strange, but Varric knew it would get easier - if Hawke decided to continue their love affair, of course.

Varric pushed the thought aside. Even if she did end things, even if this was just tension release, it was worth it. If nothing else, it would give him some good material over long, lonely nights. It might even give him good material for another book. But Varric knew this was something he would take to the grave. No one else deserved to see Hawke as he saw her now - no one deserved Hawke at all, not even him.

As if sensing his sudden descent into the maudlin, Hawke's legs wrapped around his waist and one of her hands caressed his cheek, down his neck, and into his chest hair. "Varric," she whispered so softly he almost hadn't heard it.

"Hawke," he replied shakily, feeling the base of his spine tensing with the urge to release.

She kissed him gently, and he felt like melting into her. When she pulled back, she murmured, "Turn that brain off for a minute."

He smiled against her lips and focused on how she felt surrounding him, how soft her lips were as they slid across his chin and mouth, how her eyelids fluttered as she panted. He grunted softly, his abdomen clenching, and Hawke's legs tightened around his waist. Her passage restricted around him, and he groaned, hips bucking a little faster. "Hawke-"

"Shh," she chuckled, mouth brushing his ear. "Just let go."

And he did, his cock erupting inside of her. His ears were ringing, and his eyes felt like they would never see properly again. His brain filled with a soft, echoing ring that almost sounded like Hawke's giggle. He let out a small huff as he lowered himself back onto his bedroll. Hawke followed him, curling into his sweat-dappled body, her head tucked under his chin.

Varric held her close as his mind calmed. He pulled the hide up around their shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Hawke mumbled sleepily, kissing his collar bone before falling into a heavy doze.

Varric couldn't help but grin when he heard a disgruntled _finally_ muttered from Fenris' direction. He ran a hand through Hawke's feathery hair and let out a soft sigh, closing his eyes and knowing that, for once, sleep would come swiftly.

 

* * *

 

When Varric awoke, Hawke was gone. She had rolled up her pallet, which was also gone, and Varric seemed to be the only one still sleeping. He could smell the pork sizzling over a fire - he assumed there would be a thick, dark tea and possibly some variety unleavened bread. Stomach rumbling, Varric quickly dressed and rolled up his pack, shoving his feet into his boots.

When he approached the fire, a handful of hirelings, Fenris, Anders, and Bartrand were already there. Varric wondered where Hawke was, but he wasn't about to ask. It would be better for everyone involved if he feigned innocence. So Varric sat down, taking the mug of tea that Anders pushed his way, and grinned. "Why all the long faces?"

Bartrand made an unpleasant noise in the back of his throat, tearing into a piece of flat bread and refusing to answer. Fenris rolled his eyes and seemed to be doing his best to not look at Varric. Anders, on the other hand, appeared to be blissful.

"I think Hawke and I might be getting closer," Anders said in an undertone to Varric. The mage was always bad at keeping his good news from the dwarf. Probably because Varric was one of the few who listened to every word the man said.

"I sincerely doubt that," Fenris murmured from behind his mug. Anders glanced at him, confused, but Fenris refused to give anything else away.

Varric cleared his throat and motioned for one of the hirelings to hand him a plate of food. Once he got it, he tore into the ham with gusto. He had forgotten how hungry a good roll between the sheets made him.

Bartrand observed him, eyes narrowing. Varric did his best to ignore the close-to-seething dwarf but finally gave in. "Can I help you with something, Brother?"

"There is exactly one female on this expedition," he began slowly. "And she was moaning like a whore all night."

Anders' eyes widened, and it seemed as though he was beginning to choke on his bread. Fenris was smirking from the other side of his mug. The elf enjoyed nothing better than brooding and watching Anders suffer. "What... what do you-" Anders was stammering.

Hawke chose that moment to join them at the fire, picking up a plate and she sauntered over to Varric. She sat between him and Anders, tossing her head back to fling some bed-mussed hair from her forehead. She grinned at Bartrand, who was unabashedly glaring at her, and chirped, "Good morning."

"It would have been, had we been able to sleep," Bartrand said gruffly.

Hawke blinked innocently. "I find sleeping here to be quite pleasant, strangely. It might be the darkness. I absolutely _despise_ early morning sunlight," she murmured, tearing her pork apart and placing small pieces into her mouth.

Varric had tried not to watch her as she put each tough piece on her tongue, her fingers brushing her full lower lip as she did. It didn't work, and he was beginning to realize there would be no way to turn off his attraction to her now. She owned him.

She glanced over at him and grinned, her pale eyes meeting his as if she was searching for something. She must have found it because her smile widened and she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.

Varric heard Anders sputter again, and Bartrand was muttering about someone being stupid - directed at Varric, no doubt. But Varric didn't care. Her lips were soft and salty from the pork, and he wanted nothing more to explore her mouth for as long as she would allow him.

When they parted, Bartrand had left the circle; Anders was trying to hide his furious blush. Varric had a feeling that the flush had more to do with embarrassment and anger than anything else. Usurped for a dwarf... it must have stung the tall, handsome mage.

"When, ah. When did this...?" Anders motioned between them vaguely, swallowing. He was trying to keep his tone light, but the man looked genuinely hurt. Varric felt bad for a moment, and he suspected Hawke did, too.

Hawke didn't have time to answer before Bartrand was back, still looking furious. "Pack up and be ready in ten minutes. We're breaking through the thaig today, come death or Blight infection."

Hawke glanced at Varric, smirking. "Think we got under his skin?"

"The wrong kind of tea gets under his skin, sweetheart," Varric chuckled, getting to his feet. "This has probably given him life-long boils in every orifice."

Hawke snorted into her food, muttering, "Gross," as she rushed to eat. She left her plate on his for the hirelings to manage and followed him toward his pack. Bartrand was nearby, shouting at a group of sellswords. Hawke watched the other Tethras brother before saying to Varric, quite loudly, "If you roll that out again, I bet we could give everyone a quick show. It might be good for morale."

The force of the laugh that bellowed out of Varric shocked even himself. Hawke was looking quite pleased with herself, and Bartrand had turned a dark glare their direction.

"Maker, this is going to be fun," Hawke cackled behind a hand.

"Take pity on the little man for the day," Varric chuckled, shifting his pack over one shoulder, Bianca over the other. "If you keep at this rate, you'll give him a heart attack today and deny us the joy of doing this for eternity."

"Eternity, huh?" Hawke repeated, smirking.

Varric sighed. His stupid mouth. He had to play it cool, though - he was pretty sure his calm was the only reason Hawke deigned to even look at him. "Is there something wrong with an eternity together, kicking ass, getting piss drunk, and losing all of our money?"

Hawke leaned down, pressing her lips to his temple. "The only problem I have with that scenario, Varric, is that Bartrand would be haunting us for the aforementioned eternity."

Varric laughed, pulling her into an awkward, limb-heavy hug. He didn't care that his calves were going to kill him with all of the stretching. Things would get easier; they always did.

Besides. Varric and Hawke would hopefully have an eternity to figure it out.


End file.
